


to lay my head (to pay the iron price)

by corvids_5



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-07 20:42:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20823506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corvids_5/pseuds/corvids_5
Summary: To pay the iron price is to seize something from those one has defeated. He could live forever and never defeat her. On the eve of battle Sansa finds the comfort she has longed for.





	to lay my head (to pay the iron price)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sweetlyvillainous](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sweetlyvillainous/gifts).

> Another gift for another wonderful friend. 
> 
> Let me preface this work with a disclaimer: I do not actively write in this fandom and I do not active ship theonsa. 
> 
> With that said, I did my best to capture a relationship between Theon and Sansa with canon content in mind. I didn't try and change his situation in order to make a more compelling love story. I did my best to take his situation and make it tender and loving. 
> 
> All errors are my own. 
> 
> With that said, I hope you enjoy it.

The soup burns as he swallows and the steam billows and wafts upwards as it wraps around her face. Her cheeks are already pink from the cold, her eyelashes encrusted with the newly fallen snow and they remind him of a cage as they hold back the sea in her deep blue eyes. It is in that moment he realizes that the sea has always been in Winterfell and he is ready to drown in it, in her. She smiles at him so brightly and it feels like the sun has finally broke through the clouds and chased the cold away. He swallows for the third time as she raises her spoon to her lips and sucks the soup down greedily.

As they finish their meal Theon thinks that it is too soon. Not enough time has passed and soon she will retire, to rest before the battle and he will return to the Godswood to prepare. Their bowls are swept away and as they rise she smiles at him and his heart swells and flutters, it fills with a warmth he never thought could have existed and he remembers her embrace. How her arms folded around him and how her eyes unleashed the sea in thick droplets of salt and he thinks that if she would only let him he would wipe them from her face forever.

They turn around the courtyard several times before he feels her warmth slip between his arm. Her fingers clenching against his sleeve as she pulls her body closer to his. It is from the cold, Theon thinks, it is just from the cold. As they glide across the courtyard, he notices a subtle change in her demeanor, her head is raised just a little higher, her back straighter and Theon wants to believe that it is because he is on her arm, but he knows it is a show for her soldiers. 

They pass a group of soldiers and they bow to her, their swords clinking against their thighs and she smiles again and his heart stops. This smile is different, it is not the one of warmth and sun that she has given him, this smile is steel and stone, a smile of a ruler, a queen. She grips his sleeve tighter as they continue onwards, under a balcony and towards the stables and he hears Clegane curse in annoyance. The large man is battling a dark stallion as it kicks and neighs and Clegane slaps the beast on the rear as he turns and looks upon them, upon her.

The brute of a man bows his head in her direction and sneers at him. Theon has seen the way the man has looked in Sansa’s direction, seen the way his eyes had softened and glazed over and he hates it. Hates that there are so many that are willing to fight for her hand, yet, it is her arm in his as she pulls him forward and it quells his anger for the moment. 

They reach the stairs and she drops his arm to walk up first and as they ascend, towards the upper balcony, his steps are awkward as he admires her from behind. Without her by his side he can now truly feel the bitter cold as it presses against his boiled leather and furs. She waits for him at the top and when he finally reaches it she pulls his arm into hers and they continue on. The move down the hallway and into the castle, through a corridor and the silence between them stretches on until they reach the destination they seem to have been avoiding all night.

She embraces him again and as she pulls away her lips brush against his cheek and his heart beats faster. Her hands entwine in his and his throat runs dry. He is standing in the doorway of her bedchambers and she has invited him inside. His past self would have leapt at the opportunity, but now he feels his inadequacy and he pauses, unable to answer her request.

“Please Theon,” she whispers and he can see her breath on the air and he wants to warm her. She continues to list off all the reasons that this is the right thing to do, but he no longer feels his cock stir in his breeches and his eyebrows knit together. He hears her continue on and his ears begin to fill with a whooshing noise, like the wind sweeping past until they catch and hang on her next words.

_“I want to take comfort in you.”_

His eyebrows unfurrow and his pulse quickens, she wants him. Theon swallows and his saliva is thick as it passes down his dry throat and all he can do is nod his head in his final agreement.

Sansa closes the door behind them.

The fire is roaring as the door closes behind him and he watches as Sansa sweeps into her room and sits gently on the bed. She pats is softy, an unspoken invitation and he so desperately wants to be able to give her everything she deserves. He remembers her wedding night and he knows, without a doubt that she will never forget it and he wants to replace it.

“Sansa…” he breathes as he sits. He wants to tell her what he already knows she knows, to voice his greatest shame.

“Shhh…” she presses a fingers into his lips, “There are other ways…”

Other ways, yes, he thinks. Theon remembers.

He reaches a hand out, his palm pressing into her abdomen and he presses, presses until she falls backwards and her head hits the softness of her featherbed. He reaches for her skirts as they bunch around her legs and he lifts them, his eyes catching on her silken flesh and the bones of her knees. His eyes sweep over her until they land on her face and her eyes are closed, her cheeks are flushed and her breath is no longer mist in the air. She is beautiful.

The old Theon would have already had his fingers buried between her cunt, but he is not that Theon and she is not some common whore. His fingers are too rough, from sailing and sword fighting, from tying ropes until the tips of them bled. There is no softness left to him, he thinks as he drags his forefinger across her thigh and he feels her flinch at his touch, but it is followed by a sigh and shiver and his confidence soars.

Theon falls to the floor, his knees hitting the stone and he doesn’t care that he hears a snap. Sansa moves to sit up and he presses his hand back towards her abdomen and pushes her back towards the bed. He presses her skirts higher against her hips and he sighs at the strip of cloth tied across her cunt, not a whore, a lady. He pulls the string at both ends and it unfurls and falls and she is there, exposed and he can’t wait to dip his tongue to her.

Sansa shivers as the warm air hits her exposed cunt and she pulls her knees together, but they hit his body and she can’t. She thrashes her head to the left and she stares into the flames and then there is something wet and warm on her, between her legs and it flicks and rolls against that place she found when she was just a girl and her eyes roll to the side as she grasps his hair. She is a proper lady, she reminds herself, even in this. She feels Theon’s grip on her hip relax, feels his tongue flick and plunge and the tingle that has erupted between her legs has spread and soon her belly is a pool of liquid heat and she wants his fingers digging into her flesh. She twists her hips and presses forward and she feels Theon grunt in approval as she repeats the action, his nose brushing against her and she moans, her toes curling and pressing into his back as she pulls his head closer to her cunt.

“Please…” she begs, her voice defeated as her body shivers, “Your-”

Theon presses a knuckle to her slit and she buckles, her fingers leaving his head to dig into the furs on her bed, her legs finding more purchase as she lifts her lower back and arse from the bed to follow his moving knuckle as he withdraws his hand from her cunt.

Sansa’s eyes fly open at the loss of contact and before she can find his obsidian ones, it is her eyes that scrunch close again. He watches her as he presses two fingers into her cunt and if he had a cock it would stir at her tightness, her wetness, at the sight of her hand gripping his arm as the other reaches up to play with her breasts. He moves his fingers inside her and she squirms at his movements, he leans forward and presses his lips to the exposed flesh of her neck.

She rose to meet his fingers and soon, she too is on the stone floor straddling his legs, his hand between hers.

Her hips rock against his fingers as she presses her hand against his neck. He smiles into her neck as he stops the movement of his hand, her hips still moving against his fingers. She was eager and he curls his fingers, and presses his wrist forward to meet her every thrust and she tightens around his fingers. He feels her cunt tighten as she pulls her body closer to his as she moans into his shoulder. His face is still buried in her neck and he licks at her skin as she shivers, he wishes he could fill her, the way that a man fills his wife. She rolls her body against his once more.

Sansa wants to break around him. Months of being hard as stone and she wants the sea to chip away at her. His fingers curl so deliciously inside of her and she can’t resist it any longer. She bounces and grinds against them and she feels the wetness between her legs coat them both. He is kissing her neck, licking her skin and she sinks deeper into his fingers, rocks a little faster until his thumb brushes against that bundle of nerves and her spine snap inwards as his mouth swoops down and sucks on the delicate flesh of her breast. His thumb brushes unrelenting circles over her cunt and she rides his hand a little faster, the noises that have begun to spill from her lips are spurring her on and she is so close to coming undone. All he needs to do is pull the unwinding string and she will unravel but he is slowing down and her mind spins and then the animal in her takes over. She snakes her hand down her front until her fingers have found his thumb and she moves it for him, in slow tight circles, until she moves it faster. The pace sets a fire in her and she is now using her knees to lift her as she sinks back down onto her fingers and soon her mind is spilling with nothing but pleasure.

She is beautiful, Theon thinks as Sansa throws her head back and he feels her come around his fingers, feels her body tense with her release and there is a soft smile at her lips. It is different from the one of warmth and sunshine, this one speaks of love and longing.

“When they ask you what you paid,” Sansa presses her fingers into his skull and kisses his lip, “Tell your fathers, that you paid the iron price.” His eyes soften at her words and his lips crash against hers. If she would let him he would spend the rest of his life trying to be worthy of her, to worship, to warm her heart with his own. But, this was enough, to know that before he marched off towards his inevitable death, that she was his and he had paid the iron price.


End file.
